“Are they for King Kamehameha?” the man inquired, obviously having already drunk several tankards of the beer.
“Nay, they are owned by one of the settlers. We decided a couple days ashore would be beneficial to them and their people.” He didn’t like sharing the information, but it was impossible to hide that many fine horses, and they had made quite an impression coming ashore. He knew the vaqueros guarding the animals might have to defend themselves from those who thought to help themselves to the animals and the women. This place could be a cesspool.
“You know, if the King’s people see them, they may want them,” the man said warningly, finishing his beer and signaling for another.
The captain hadn’t really worried about the king and his people, having only thought of other sailors from around the world that inhabited the dregs of society and whose only goal was to futter as many of the native women as they could find. He nodded to acknowledge the other captain and slowly finished his own tankard. Now, he was worried about Senora Pearson and her damned horses. He left the bar as soon as he could without insulting the other captain. He sought out a couple of his officers and sent them to warn the Senora and her men to be extra vigilant.
The restocking of water, food, and fodder for the horses took no time at all but waiting for the horses to eat their fill and for everyone to enjoy their time ashore seemed to make the days in port drag. Captain Jamieson cut his own free time short in order that a few more of his men could enjoy themselves. Several returned early, having overindulged, and they were puking up the contents of their stomachs as they sought their bunks or hammocks. After a week in port, the longest he could remember being there, he was delighted to see the Californians and their stock coming down the large pier and being reloaded on the ship. Some of the horses balked. They had liked their time ashore and were not willing to go back into the familiar cargo hold. He had his sailors help the vaqueros, surprised that Senora Pearson herself sweet-talked not only her stallion but several other of the fractious horses into coming aboard. Still, some did have to have their heads hooded to hide the sight of water on both sides of the ramp.
The passengers were finally settled, and they cast off, well stocked for the next part of their trip. Everyone seemed refreshed from their stopover.
“Captain, I am curious,” Senora Pearson addressed him, looking at the rather crude maps that showed the seas and land backwards. There were few details other than major ports and towns on the land side, but many notes, including depths, longitude, and latitude visible on the large papers. She pointed to New Zealand. “Why we don’t head for this before Australia?”
“With the curve of the Earth, it isn’t like a straight line. There are winds to consider as well as other obstacles, such as currents that can help or hinder our passage,” he explained, delighted in the intelligence of this woman. She came across as simple but was far from it, and her looks had been commented on by his men many times. She was intelligent, and it was obvious her children had inherited this intelligence from her as they were just as inquisitive when they had the captain’s ear.
The voyage continued. It was long, and many storms impeded their way. His passengers were by turn ill from being thrown about by the massive waves or on deck taking in the air in order to get some time out of the cabins assigned to them. The ship was becoming rather gamy to them all since there were animals and their resulting odors, despite the constant cleaning of their stalls. They’d taken on fresh fodder for the many beasts in Hawaii, and this had helped. Apparently, the animals had all benefited from going ashore as had the people.
They stopped in Tahiti, the halfway point between Hawaii and Australia, but the captain would not allow the horses ashore on this island. These natives weren’t like the natives on the island of Hawaii. They were a bit primitive, and he didn’t trust some of the men who lived there. The island was claimed by the French, traditional enemies of the English, so the captain had to walk a fine line. He and his ship were American, but the natives had been known to impose taxes and even confiscate some things. He kept a low profile and kept his men in check, only allowing one night off for each of the shifts. They took on more water and supplies and even managed to get more fresh fodder for the horses before they quickly continued their journey.
CHAPTER EIGHT
They were all relieved to finally see the headlands that formed the over one-mile-wide entrance to Sydney. Captain Jamieson pointed out North Head and Quarantine Head to his passengers. He explained that there was also South Head and Dunbar Head, pointing south where they would have been visible had they come from that direction. They had traveled to Australia through the Tasman Sea, keeping well out to avoid what was now called The Great Barrier Reef as well as smaller reefs that protected this land mass. Once in the harbor they saw Middle, Georges, and Chowder Head. He pointed out the various islands as the sailors took in their great sails to slow their ship.
“I’ll have to weigh anchor and make arrangements for docking. That can take some time in this busy port,” he informed Senora Pearson. “A lot of ships use porters,” he indicated the smaller boats, barges, and modest platforms where goods were ferried to and from the ships. “I wouldn’t advise that for the horses and your people…unless, you are anxious?” he began, seeing the alarmed look in the woman’s face.
Carmen sighed. “It has been a long five months,” she admitted, cheering up as their destination was in sight. They’d passed the original fort Port Jackson, and the captain had pointed it out.
“It would be best that we got your horses to the stockyards to keep them until you can make arrangements to go to your station,” he told her, and she nodded.
It took less time to find a dock where they could unload stock than the captain had anticipated. They offloaded the horses and then the many household goods and cargo the Californios had brought with them. The captain helped to arrange rental of a warehouse to house the people and their goods until they made further arrangements. He couldn’t help with that after he took his leave of them. He was sad to see them go; it had been an interesting trip with the many personalities. He wished the Senora well on her travels to her station. Turning away, he left to arrange to unload the rest of his ship and find cargo he could take back to the states on their return journey.
“We will have to find out where Twin Station is and see if anyone is heading in that direction,” Carmen decided, discussing it with Paco. Already, their horses had engendered much interest in the stockyards. People were trying to buy them. One had even attempted to walk off with a couple, and after this attempt to steal them, the Senora had several of the vaqueros guarding her babies. They took her children, their nurses, and their baggage and sought a respectable hotel. Checking in, Carmen also inquired about banks in the area and presented her letters of introduction to the Bank of England, who had received notice of the funds transferred to Mrs. Pearson’s accounts. That handled, she returned to the hotel for dinner. Their group took up an entire table, only a few absent as some of her men stayed to guard their people and her horses in the warehouse. She’d arranged for fresh food to be brought to them.
They discussed Sydney and what they had seen so far, talking rapidly in Spanish as their food was delivered. Carmen had been fascinated by the different foliage and wondered if her horses would adapt well to the fodder they had managed to obtain at the stockyards. The hay and grain looked the same, but Australia felt so different. They were all on edge, and she was certain her horses felt it too.
Seeing the dark looks that were aroused by their speaking Spanish, Carmen effortlessly switched to English, her voice distinct and containing a hint of the Latina inflections as she spoke to her men. One had asked what they would do if they couldn’t find a guide out to Twin Station. “We’ll have to find my cousins’ lawyer and see about taking a wagon and supplies out to the station,” she said to him.
“Do you think we should bring stock to the station?” one of the men asked her.
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��Perhaps. I don’t know how many sheep they have out there, but I want to be sure to contribute.”
“Your horses should be enough of a contribution,” one of the older men was saying, his dark moustache tinged with a bit of gray.
“I can’t believe the brazen attempts to take my horses away,” she said, lowering her voice so only her men would hear her. “It was a good idea to leave some of the men to guard my babies.”
A couple of the men had looked around, always on guard where the Senora was concerned. They had seen one man listening unashamedly and frowned at him, trying to warn him off. The conversation at the table switched effortlessly from English back to Spanish.
A large man approached their table. “Ma’am,” he said, taking off the stockman’s hat he had just put on after getting up from his own table. “I couldn’t help but overhear your accent. You are from California?”
Carmen looked up and saw the tall man, who whipped off his hat politely. He too had an American accent, and she smiled politely. “Yes, we are,” she said in an inquiring tone.
“I am Mel Lawrence,” he told her politely. “I’m originally from the east coast, but I have been through your beautiful state. I couldn’t help but overhear you are going out to a station?” he asked, including the glowering vaqueros as he looked around. He knew that a strange man didn’t usually approach a Hispanic woman, and this woman was particularly well-guarded.
“I am Carmen Pearson,” the woman said, her slight accent sounding beautiful to Mel and further enhancing her natural good looks. She put out a hand that Mel captured, intending to shake and then, on impulse, lifted to kiss the back as he had seen men do. He grinned unrepentedly as she saw the men bristle.
Carmen was amused. It was so gallant and so old-fashioned. She saw her men didn’t like the strange man but that was on principle as they were here to protect her. Since many of them were distant cousins of her mother’s, they felt it their duty. “What brings you to Australia, Mr. Lawrence?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
“I was shanghaied outside of San Francisco,” he admitted, speaking low in case they were overheard. “It’s a long story, but I’ve decided to stay. I too am heading inland. When I heard an accent from back home, I couldn’t help but make your acquaintance.”
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Lawrence. I would love to hear your story?” she answered, intrigued by the large man. There was something about him, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was just that he was a stranger. She waved to indicate a vacant chair.
“I would love to speak with you, but I must seek my bed. It has been a long day for me, and I have business to attend to in the morning. Will you be staying in Sydney long?”
“Only a few days, just long enough to rest. I brought a herd of horses, and they must get settled after that long boat ride before we set off to our station. Perhaps we will see each other again, and you can tell me more of your story then?”
“I would like that, Miss Pearson.”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Pearson,” she corrected automatically.
Mel had already noticed that there was no ring on her finger but accepted her word. He nodded, acknowledging the new term of address. “Good night, Mrs. Pearson.” He smiled towards the still glowering men, nodding towards them as well as he included them in his farewell, then he bowed slightly towards the woman and excused himself.
“That was forward,” Paco hissed before he could help himself, his moustache bristling angrily.
Carmen cocked an eyebrow towards her segundo, and he squirmed almost immediately. Since they had left the Americas, he had felt very protective towards his employer. It was a self-inflicted duty, but he felt fatherly towards her. They were distantly related, as were almost all her men, and it meant they were all loyal to her. “Paco do not presume to direct my behavior. He was polite, he was interesting, and perhaps he can give us information from his own observations in this foreign land.”
He blushed as he nodded, accepting her criticism as his due. They finished their meal, feeling the food could have used some more spices.
CHAPTER NINE
Carmen found the lawyer after her men made inquiries for her. He wasn’t pleased to see the American woman. He knew his clients had wanted to buy her out, and her presence meant he had failed. He wasn’t sure how to help direct her to the ranch, which they called a station out here. He said he would keep his ear out for someone heading that way, but they both knew he was only giving her lip service. She left the solicitor’s office very unhappy with the experience.
“Now what, Senora?” Paco asked when she relayed what the solicitor had told her.
“I think we should start inquiries by sending the men to the inns and pubs,” she smiled, knowing she was using the British terms instead of their own American words for hotels and taverns. It was deliberate as they were now here in this new land, for better or worse. “Have them inquire as to anyone who might know of Twin Station and how to get there.”
A few days later, Carmen was at the stockyard checking on her babies, who were obviously happy to be off the ship and becoming a bit restless. Already, Dancer had kicked out some fencing in anger over someone trying to touch his harem. She was amused and gladly paid for the damages her baby had caused. She knew they couldn’t stay in Sydney indefinitely, and while she had explored the city a bit on Dancer and accompanied by several of her men, they needed to get going. Judging by the length of time it took a letter to get from the station to Sydney and then to San Francisco and the ranch, she suspected they still had quite a journey ahead of them. She was pleased to see the other American, Mel Lawrence, at the stockyards. She watched as the man, dressed in stockmen’s clothes that were much different from the fine suit he had been wearing back at the hotel the other night, appeared to negotiate for some dogs. She wondered what he intended to do and wanted desperately to talk to a fellow American. She smiled as she saw the American walk away with four dogs. She lost sight of him but watched for him on the days she visited the stockyards to check up on her horses and walked to the warehouse to check on her people. She was pleased when a few days later she spotted the American at the stockyards once again.
“Buying up Australia?” Carmen teased when she walked up to the fence where the American was looking over some animals. They didn’t look very good to the experienced rancher, and she wondered what Mel’s interest was in them.
“Mrs. Pearson, it’s always a delight to see you,” Mel returned as he turned from the animals he was perusing. The sheep looked terrible with their long wooly coats shorn, some with splotches of wool still on them and others with nicks and cuts from the shears. He lifted his hat respectfully but didn’t remove it in the hot Australian sun.
“Do you know where you are going in the Outback?” Carmen inquired, glancing at the stock and shaking her head slightly.
“I’m not sure yet. I thought I’d go to the end of the tracks and on into the never-never,” he admitted, the thought not so far from his actual plans. He glanced at the sheep in the corral and frowned slightly. They wouldn’t be worth taking into the Outback; he was certain they wouldn’t survive.
“We are going out to the station I own with my distant cousins. Why don’t we travel together?”
“Your men wouldn’t like that,” he pointed out, glancing towards two of them that were far enough away to give the woman privacy, but close enough to guard her in the event a man approached her. They did not look happy about Carmen approaching the American.
“No, they wouldn’t; however, that doesn’t dictate my actions, and we do have to get going. I’ve spent enough time here in Sydney. I was hoping to buy some sheep too,” she indicated the poor animals in one of the corrals near where they were standing.
“Slim pickings,” Mel mentioned, and just then, a commotion near the front of the stockyards drew both their attention. His dogs were sitting around his feet, panting, and they perked up at the mass of sheep that men were even now putting in several
corrals.
“What’s going on?” Carmen murmured as they both started walking towards the uproar.
“I have no idea,” Mel stated as he signaled to the four dogs, who followed at his feet instantly. He hadn’t made them work since he bought them, but they did guard his wagon for him when he fed them and left them to return to the hotel nightly. He hadn’t had a moment to seek out the woman from California but still wished to talk to her.
The dust the sheep kicked up was intense and both Mel and Carmen used handkerchiefs to cover their mouths and noses. Carmen’s handkerchief was a delicate Queen Anne piece of lace and Mel’s was a red bandana that reminded him of America, which he had found in a store.
“What’s going on?” Mel asked one of the men as he closed a paddock that was packed with the sheep they had just herded in.
“Bank confiscation,” he said with a grin, glancing at Carmen more than once and hoping to catch her eye.
“What does that mean?” Mel asked for them both, suddenly feeling protective of Carmen. Glancing around, he was not surprised to see Paco and one of the other men a few paces off.
“Some bloke ordered these from England. He ran outta money before they arrived, and the bank confiscated ‘em.”
Mel looked at the sheep. They were Merinos, the very breed that a man by the name of Foster had told him were one of the best for wool production. The sheep in the other paddocks paled by comparison. These also had full coats and hadn’t been sheared of the long coats on their bodies. “How many are there?” he asked, speculating as he eyed them.
“Over five thousand,” he bragged, still trying to catch Carmen’s eye but failing. Still, he answered Mel as though he were speaking on behalf of the Hispanic beauty.
“Who do I talk to about buying ‘em?” he asked. Carmen perked up at this question, looking intently to hear the answer.
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